Heart of Palm
by StarSpangledTeaLeaf
Summary: Taiwan never knew anything outside of his little island, and he never wanted to. Or so he thought. Male!Taiwan.


Umm…. So basically, I just wanted to write something about Taiwan and Portugal…

Hopefully, there will be more pairings in the future…If there is a future…

But currently, this will be Taiwan-centric.

I do not own Hetalia, obviously.

Sunlight streamed through the bamboo stalks, illuminating what was once dark and unseen. He sat up, confused, fervently trying to figure out where he was. He could not speak, could not understand all that was happening around him, could not comprehend the lights and the sounds and the overall _greenness _of everything. Not that he knew the word _green_, or any word at all.

Creatures with names unknown to him sang, chirruping cheerfully while standing in yet other things that he could not name. He looked around, drinking in the sight of his beautiful surroundings. The world was magnificent to the extent that it was overwhelming to the newly formed nation.

He blinked, rubbing almond shaped eyes with chubby fists. Despite the strangeness, he felt safe, felt a peaceful sense of belonging. The nation stood up on shaky legs, timidly inching his foot forward on the ground. He tried again, this time stepping cautiously with his other foot. The ground was wonderfully warm under the tender soles of his feet and he giggled while burying toes into the rich soil. Again and again, he moved forward, until he was no longer shaky. And then he was running, whooping and leaping across the vast land, wind whipping across his face. Sometimes, he tumbled to the ground, but got up right again, unhurt-for surely nothing could hurt him, not in this beautiful, strange, nameless world…

Time and time again, he started noticing things changing around him. He was not the only one anymore. Sometimes he stopped, watching with much satisfaction as the other creatures like him moved about in their own strange way, working and walking and bustling about. More and more of them inhabited the land, spreading in little tribes and villages. They continued to thrive and grow in population, each little tribe claiming their own territory. He watched as they discovered how to use fire, how to use sticks and stones to hunt fish, how to collect berries to eat. He watched as they struggled to overcome the fears of the Wild, as they discovered the wonders of farming, as they formed some means to communicate.

Curiously, none of them seemed to notice him, though occasionally, what seemed to be the more influential leaders consulted with him, asking in their unique tongue how to live on and survive. He never opened his mouth, for he knew that he could communicate without speech. Some primal instinct told him that these were _his_ people, and that he had the responsibility to guide them when they are lost.

For how long he went on like this, running and cheering and tumbling across the land, occasionally stopping to help some of _his_ people, he did not know. All that he registered after a while, was how the brightness that once surrounded the island dimmed, how the once sparkling surroundings seemed to have transformed into a wholly different place. He could not see _his_ people anymore. They were not pure, mixed in with other races from exotic new lands. Strange men speaking in a different dialects flirted with _his_ women, and the new generation of _his_ people were mingled with the blood of _others_.

He did not know where these strangers came from, only knew that they belonged to another. One day, he was startled to realize that his own appearance seemed to have changed, adapting to the newcomers. More and more came, some for trade, others to stay. He wished nothing to do with those people, and instead, continued his long run again, moving around and around, watching the _new_ ones merging with _his _people.

All this time, he did not speak. Not his people's language, not the newcomers' languages, nor a mix of the two. He remained silent, but never ceased to watch over them.

Once in a spout of anger, (Those _stupid _strangers disrupting the island's peace with their _stupid_ loud voices!) he raced away from the nearest village, and dove into territory he had never dared wander in before.

And so he found himself, staring into eerie darkness. Instead of the strange roof that often had quirky little oblongs drifting across it, rows and rows of sinister looking monsters towered over him, tattooing the ground with harsh bits of shadow. The forest-for that was what it was- scared him, and he started panicking, wanting to escape. For the first time, he was actually experiencing fear, and loneliness, in this unending hell of creeping branches and rustling leaves.

Just as he was about to give up running in wariness, a foreign sound penetrated the forest, causing him to trip over his feet, landing in a heap on the ground. The sound continued, accompanied with much rustling. The nation laid on the ground, too terrified to move. Two heartbeats later, something tall and strangely familiar burst out of the bushes, and stopped, staring at him in bewilderment.

"_Well aren't you the cutest little thing? What are you doing out here all alone?"_

The newcomer looked like him and his people, but at the same time, held no resemblance at all. For the stranger-_oh_, the stranger, with his strange olive skin and bright jeweled eyes, colorful clothing and long auburn hair, made the black locks and dark eyes that he shared with his people seem dull in comparison.

The nation stared at the newcomer, fascinated by the way this creature made sounds by opening and closing those pretty pink lips. He had never noticed his people speaking before, never even realized they spoke by opening their mouths. Though he couldn't understand anything the stranger just said, he stared on, all fear forgotten, for there was something, something so oddly welcoming about the stranger that that he could not stay scared for long. The stranger shifted a little, still looking down at him, lips continuously moving. Vaguely, he wondered for the first time if he too could make pretty sounds.

"_What's your name? Do you have a name?" _The person was moving again, this time to settle down next to him. He realized the strange position he was in, and scrambled to copy the newcomer, sitting with his legs crossed on the ground. Something niggled at his mind, and he realized with a start, that this person could see him.

"_You don't understand a thing I'm saying, do you?_"

The nation opened his own mouth, hoping to come up with something to answer this pretty, foreign stranger. He wondered if this newcomer had his own people, as well.

"Ahhh…..No…Doooo…..you…" He was proud to have at least said something. However, the newcomer only stared at him. Suddenly, his head tilted back, and a lilting laugh echoed around the forest. The young nation stared indignantly at the stranger, cheeks flushed, despite the fact that he had no clue why the other person was laughing.

"_You must be a new one, then. Meu deus, who would have thought that in the mist of all those big towering eastern empires, there's a pretty little island here all alone!"_

The new nation's only response was to stare at him quizzically, dark eyes narrowed in frustration, lips slightly parted.

"_Hmm….Ilha Formosa…Sim, Ilha Formosa…I will call you Formosa!" _The newcomer exclaimed happily.

Formosa furrowed his brows, and echoed the word.

"_Formosa?"_

"_Sim! Ilha Formosa! You can speak!" _The stranger stood up again, and pulled Formosa up with him.

"_I am Portugal!" _The man said, pointing at himself. Formosa looked at him, and pointed with his own slender finger.

"_Portugal?" _He paused, and pointed at himself. _"Formosa?"_

This, for some reason, made the stranger called Portugal very happy. Portugal laughed his beautiful laugh again, and Formosa couldn't help but smile.

"_Do you have your own people? Do you know them? Have you sailed overseas before? Have you…" _

Portugal continued to babble on, taking Formosa's hand in his own and leading him through the forest. He noticed that Formosa was very small, barely half his height. The boy was young, with long silky locks of hair swept around his face, slim body covered in the same drab clothing he had seen the _Chinese _wearing. He frowned, wondering if _they_ had taken over this pretty island already. Without stopping his talk, he cast sideways glances at the boy's face, drinking in the petite features that so resembled all the Eastern nations he had come across. Formosa's cheeks were flushed, listening to his words as though he understood, and sometimes answering with choppy strange sentences of his own.

Gradually, they had left the forest behind, and by that time, Portugal could tell that Formosa, though quiet and shy at first, was bright and eager to learn. They passed villages, and crossed mountains, stopping for rests at times, all the while conversing in half Portuguese half aborigine language. (Formosa, though never actually speaking to his people, had picked up their tongue all the same.)

At one point, they found themselves staring at a river, long and twisting through the plains and mountains in the distance.

"_This is the longest river of this island."_ Formosa told him proudly, staring fondly at said river. _"Many of my people have lived and died by this river."_ He said softly in his accented Portuguese.

"_And you? How have you lived, minha querido? "_ Portugal had spoken the last two words without really registering them. Thankfully, Formosa did not notice, or did not understand the meaning.

"_Me? I have lived well enough. My people are good natured and kind hearted, but…."_ His eyes darkened. _"The newcomers….I do not like them. They are too loud. My people have accepted them, of course, and they have already become part of us, I suppose. I wish to know who they belong to."_

At this, Portugal raised his eyebrows.

"_You do not know of China? The Great Empire of the East?" _Portugal was bewildered. _"He is said to be one of the oldest nations of the world, and he is just across a strait from you! Have you not met?"_

Formosa blushed, color staining his cheeks.

"_I didn't want to know anyone else. I never knew there were so much more of us, before you told me. "_ He locked gazes with Portugal, and Portugal felt his heart skip a beat. _"I never knew there was more to this world than this little island. I probably seem very stupid to you." _He ducked his head, then looked up at Portugal shyly through his long, dark lashes. _"I never knew there was someone like you out there."_

The older nation was nearly speechless at Formosa's words. He found himself wondering what those full lips might taste like, but hastily shook away these thoughts. _He's still too young,_ he thought wistfully.

"_No, minha querido, not stupid at all. Simply lacking in experience…" _And adorably innocent. _"One day, I will take you out to see the rest of the world."_

They both fell silent after that.

And so, it was through the crossing of many plains and the hiking through of many mountains that split the small island in half, that Portugal finally realized how much time he had spent on the little Asian island. And in that time, he knew he was much too drawn to the boy, intoxicated by the way he laughed so innocently, the way sunlight seemed to fold around him and make his silky hair glow softly, the color of red staining his cheeks whenever he was embarrassed… All Portugal wanted, was to continue to stay by the sweet Asian's side, and to understand him more.

But he knew he did not have much time left. Sooner or later, his own dictator would search for him, and he would be traveling across the seas once again. With this in mind, he took Formosa to the very place they had first met, in the forest. This time, the trees were in full bloom, and Formosa realized that, the originally creepy monsters were in fact, beautiful plum blossom trees. He looked at Portugal with a puzzled look on his face.

"_Minha querido, our time together has come to an end._"

Formosa stiffened, but did not respond.

"_My people…..my boss sent me to explore the Eastern oceans. And to think that I have come across such a beautiful island, when all I wanted was to go back home….I am glad that I didn't. "_

Still no response.

"_I will not take you_."

Formosa glanced at his feet. _"But you said you would…"_

"_No. Not take with me, or take you, as a country. I can't do that to you."_

Portugal gripped the younger nation by the shoulders, then pulled him into an embrace, hoping that Formosa would understand and forgive him for leaving. He could feel the boy shivering slightly in his arms, but slowly relaxing. He threaded his fingers through those silky black locks, for the last time, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

He pulled away, and noticed a plum blossom that had floated onto Formosa's head. He laughed at the sight, reaching out for it.

"_See, even the flowers can't stay away from you."_ He tucked the flower behind Formosa's ear.

"_Flowers are for girls."_ Formosa muttered, but didn't object to the gesture. He glared at Portugal, but the bastard only smiled in turn.

"_I won't forgive you for this." _

Portugal laughed, and Formosa knew it was the last time he would hear that wonderful sound in a long time. He wanted to say something, anything, to tell Portugal what he felt.

"_You better not forget me."_ Was all he managed.

"_Oh, I won't. Never in a million years."_

The older nation smiled softly, fixing the image of his Formosa standing with the blooming trees, a pink blossom in his hair and a scowl on his face, forever in his mind. Yes, he would not forget the Asian.

"_Adeus, minha querido."_

Portugal turned, disappearing into the tress, taking his wonderful colors with him, just the way he had came into Formosa's life.

Skip the below if history stuff bores you…

The Portuguese discovered Taiwan in the 16 somethings, when they were busy searching for places to trade in the East. They called it "Ilha Formosa", which is "Beautiful Island" in Portuguese, and the name is still often used to describe Taiwan… Oh, and the strangers of the island are the Chinese that immigrated to Taiwan, starting in the 12th century (Song Dynasty). The traders are the Japanese merchants.

I do not speak Portuguese, so the following is all google translated:

_Sim, Ilha Formosa_ – Yes, Beautiful Island

_Adeus, minha querido – _Goodbye, my dear


End file.
